


You Look Good In My Shirt

by Quillaninc



Category: Voltron: Lion Voltron
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-26
Updated: 2010-07-26
Packaged: 2017-10-10 19:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillaninc/pseuds/Quillaninc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sound in the doorway made Keith look up briefly.  The sight made his mouth turn dry.  His first thought was that, sometime in the past four years, he must have finally caught up with Lance, if the shirt Lance was studiously buttoning at the cuffs was anything to go by.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Look Good In My Shirt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [randi2204](https://archiveofourown.org/users/randi2204/gifts).



> Gifted to randi2204, not only for her love of Keith Urban, but also because I'd bugged her for a songfic based on this, and ended up bitten by the muse instead. Yes, Quill wrote a songfic. Oy!

A sound in the doorway made Keith look up briefly, just as he was cracking the eggs into the frypan.

The sight made his mouth turn dry.

His first thought was that, sometime in the past four years, he must have finally caught up with Lance, if the shirt Lance was studiously buttoning at the cuffs was anything to go by. It was Keith's second best dress shirt.

His next thought was to wonder how on earth Lance had known it was his second best, and to feel unusually warm and comforted at the idea that he would be that considerate, and to be amazed he'd gone to so much trouble. Then he shook himself out of his little fantasy and chastised himself for reading much too much into the simple act of grabbing the nearest convenient shirt, no thought at all.

Perhaps that had been half their trouble, to begin with: Keith, reading too much into everything. Like friends who seemed too close, or answers that seemed too defensive, or a hundred other foolish things that told Lance that Keith didn't trust him.

Of course, Lance had his own quirks as well, and always, always knew how to push Keith's buttons in not the best fashion.

Lance's hair was falling into his face as he bent forward to better see the buttons he was fiddling with at his wrists, allowing Keith a private, stunned moment to enjoy the picture he made. The stark white shirt fitted rather nicely across Lance's pleasantly broad shoulders, hanging open to reveal a shadowed glimpse of a warm, defined torso that was so much more familiar this morning than it had been for a long time.

Those dark dress trousers had always suited Lance's long legs, accentuating trim hips and hinting at nice, taut buttocks. His belt buckle hung open, to be clinched later when Lance had done up the shirt and tucked in its tails.

It had always been that way, to the point where Keith could recite it in his sleep: briefs, then pants, then socks and shoes - first left, then right - with his shirt always left for last, to be cuffed, straightened, buttoned, tucked, usually while wandering out the bedroom door.

Funny, how some habits never changed. It was so familiar, Keith ached at the memory.

It'd been a bit of a shock last night, when someone had stepped up behind him at his local bar, slid warm, masculine hands over his eyes, and whispered, "Guess who?"

Oh, he'd strung out a litany of names, but all the while his smile gave him away. How could he forget that voice?

Last night... It'd been fantastic, and not just when they'd gotten back to Keith's apartment, either. Over a few friendly drinks, Lance explained that he was in town for a job interview the next day and decided he needed to get out and socialise a bit, rather then spend a lonely night by himself in his motel room.

"And was I ever surprised to walk in here and see you," he had laughed, clapping a friendly hand on Keith's shoulder.

So, they'd drank a few, laughed a lot, and talked a great deal more. Oh, they were by no means drunk - just enough to break the ice. But, come evening's end, Keith found himself gazing into Lance's warm, smiling eyes and seeing his own questions reflected there: how the hell had they gone so wrong, back then?

Before he knew it, the words were out and Keith was inviting the other man back to his place. Now, this morning, Keith wasn't sure if it was the best thing he'd ever done, or the most stupid. Surely ... surely it couldn't be that simple, could it? There was no way on earth that one night could make such a difference...

The hot fat suddenly spat at him from the pan, catching the wrist that still hovered above it while he was busy stargazing in Lance's direction. Startled, he jumped. He must have made some kind of noise, because Lance suddenly looked up, a sheepishly guilty expression giving him a shy kind of look that was enough to make Keith's apprehension begin to melt.

And while Lance might be offering a grin to him from beneath his lashes, his eyes mirrored Keith's own uncertainty now that they had to face morning. "Ahm, 'morning," he greeted Keith shakily.

Keith's eyes couldn't seem to keep themselves to themselves, still reluctant to let go of the sight of Lance standing there in his doorway like that. He felt rooted to the spot by one very clear thought: everything in him craved this picture, every morning for as long as he could get it.

Lance, however, took his long silence for something else. Turning uncomfortably red, he gestured to his shirt - Keith's shirt - and stammered an apology. "I - er - didn't think you'd mind. It's just that ... well, we made a bit of a mess of mine last night."

He smiled sheepishly again, and his nervousness shook Keith from his daze. "Oh! No, no, that's fine!" Keith hurried to assure him, a broad grin of his own trying to let loose. "It - looks good on you, actually."

Lance's relieved smile was worth any discomfort he'd been feeling. Keith felt his heart begin to thud heavily, giving him a tiny pleasure-pain ache deep in his chest, just from seeing that incredible smile and the affectionate look in Lance's blue eyes. Then the grin turned rueful as Lance held up his still unbuttoned cuff. "It'd look better if I could get this damn thing done up," he tried to joke. He still sounded strained.

Keith chuckled softly and turned down the eggs. "Here," he offered, crossing the small space of the kitchen to pick up the loose ends of Lance's cuff. "Let me." He slid the button through the hole with the ease of having both hands on the job, dark head bent over just as Lance's had been. "There you go," he smiled with a nod and looked up, only to be caught in Lance's turbulently hopeful gaze.

"Keith?" Lance asked hesitantly. "Are we ... just dreaming pipe dreams? Thinking we can make it work?"

Keith shrugged, an uncomfortable gesture under the circumstances as it turned out, so he tried to allow his growing belief in the possibility show in his eyes. "We can try," he replied. "At least, we've made a good start so far,I think."

His hands automatically found themselves smoothing down the odd wrinkle here and there, brushing away non existent dust or hair, and generally just enjoying the solid feel of Lance warming the fabric of Keith's shirt. Lance's musky, unique scent mingled with the subtle cologne he was using; the barest hint of it, and Keith quickly become aware that his heart was thudding to a tempo that he suddenly suspected was for Lance alone.

He couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself now, as well as his eyes. The cotton of his shirt moved sensually against Lance's smooth, warm body, and for some childish reason, Keith was struck with the impulse to never wash it again. He smiled mostly to himself and licked his lips slowly, his fingertips lingering along Lance's shoulders as he tried to find the right words to say.

"I guess ... sometimes we need the space to grow enough to fit into someone else's shirt. Or for them to grow enough for our fit to become perfect on them," he offered, and damn if he didn't feel ridiculously shy in saying that.

An understanding smile curled the corners of Lance's mouth. His hands had somehow found Keith's hips without him knowing, alternately curling and caressing and holding Keith there. "Fitting into each other's substitute skins, hey? That's a very ... provocative philosophy you have there, Captain." And, since when could Lance resist a sexy smirk at a remark like that?

Keith smiled at Lance and let his hands trail down the other man's front seductively. Then he snuck them easily through the arch made by Lance's hands and looped his arms around Lance's waist in a loose embrace. "You could say I was inspired," he grinned.

Lance's eyes flicked briefly towards the stove, then he grinned. "Those eggs are gonna be _ex_pired if you don't get to them soon," he remarked dryly. Nonetheless, he still stole a brief kiss before he let Keith go.

Breakfast was over much too soon for either man's liking. They talked and ate and drank a pot of coffee between them before it was time for Lance to leave.

It seemed like a nanosecond had passed since Lance had appeared in the doorway, when suddenly Keith found himself watching from his door as Lance swung himself effortlessly over Keith's front gate and waved farewell with a bright, affectionate smile. He didn't need to hear the words to know he'd see Lance tonight, just as Lance hadn't needed them any more to know that he'd be welcome.

Keith hid a smile as he spotted the slightly crooked tie beneath Lance's charcoal grey suit jacket, slipped on hastily as Lance ran out the door after a quick change,while Keith's second best shirt dangled from his hand. The egg stain was probably setting very nicely by now. It may never come out, anyway; Keith was still tempted to keep it just as it was with Lance's scent all over it.

It didn't matter. Lance looked pretty damn good in his best shirt, too, Keith mused as he shut the front door.

~ owari ~

**Author's Note:**

> **Song: "You Look Good In My Shirt"**, sung by Keith Urban.
> 
>  
> 
> Lyrics
> 
>  
> 
> _When you walked up behind me and covered my eyes and whispered in my ear guess who? _
> 
> _I rattled off names like I really didn't know, but all along I knew it was you._
> 
> _And the longer we talked the more we laughed and wondered why we didn't last, _
> 
> _It 'd been a long time but late last night baby we caught up real fast._
> 
> _And maybe it's a little too early to know if this is gonna work._
> 
> _All I know is-a you're sure lookin' good in my shirt._
> 
> _You look good in my shirt._
> 
> _Now I'm not saying we that solved overnight everywhere we went wrong._
> 
> _Oh, but what I'm seeing I'd sure love seeing every morning from now on._
> 
> _And maybe it's a little too early to know if this is gonna work._
> 
> _All I know is-a you're sure lookin' good in my shirt._
> 
> _[riff]_
> 
> _And maybe it's a little too early to know if this is gonna work._
> 
> _All I know is-a you're sure lookin' good in my shirt._
> 
> _And maybe it's a little too early to know if this is gonna work._
> 
> _All I know is-a you're sure lookin' good in my shirt._
> 
> _You look good in my shirt._


End file.
